Before he was called the Ghost
by The Rain Man
Summary: An alternative past to that written by Kay, set in that time when the Opera Garnier was Erik's life.


Welcome, thanks for taking a look. This is an alternative past of which Erik might have lived, it has an essence of Kay within it for we can never deny what we already know. But Kay's work is not in strength as it only influences certain idea's, mostly this is based on the original novel written by Leroux, and has nothing to do with Andrew Lloyd Webber's version to my knowledge so far. It is written in diary form, and any comments or suggestions are more then welcome.

Enjoy.

The Rain Man.

**Chapter One: The month of July**

July 17-

This weather here is entirely objectionable to my health, the haughty chest cold I acquired upon entering this country, has yet to leave. The doctor cannot do anything, or so he claims, you cannot trust men in this country, they are French, and little can be obtained from a friendship with such people. I would rather return home and be done with this whole affair, at least then Doctor J would make sense of my condition and relieve me off it. Alas, we have little enough to feed ourselves never mind the money to pay our way home, it was spent getting here and purchasing this wretched home. No one has come forth yet inquiring about the room in the attic, I took the ad down to the local paper not two weeks ago now, and it makes me wonder if they took notice of it in the first place and added it. The French are despicable, nothing like the noble men from the old country; it makes me wish I was there right now. Of course Anna objects to any want of returning, throughout breakfast she continued to comment on how fine the French were, and that we were sure to make a name for ourselves here in Paris, unlike back home with all our sheep, I had grown rather fond of the farm it had been the only thing my father had left, and I was grateful for it, but Anna, of course she was no farmers wife and as soon as I had claimed the piece of land, it was on the market again. The whole thought of this ordeal rather put me off my porridge right there, and I can proudly declare that I could not touch another spoonful, not for all the want of the world.

July 18-

It rained again today, if the weather is fine tomorrow I will go for a walk, the house is beginning to feel like one of those prisons that they drag fellow country men off too kicking and screaming for supporting their king. They need a king in this blasted place, it will all run riot if they are not careful enough. Mark my word.

July 21-

Anna will surely drive me to an early grave. Forever she is asking why no one has come forth for the flat, why I have yet to find myself a good job. No one wants to hire a man to which French is not the first tongue, and there is little prospect for someone of my trade anyway, she does not understand that. It would be wrong to say that I did not snap at her, I went further then that. By the end of the whole ordeal Anna was black and blue, I went for a walk after that, clear my head for a bit. Besides, I could not look at her; she was surely a sight to behold. It would be good to note, not a sign of course, that the rain had stopped at that moment, it gave me reason enough to carry on for a good long walk. Interesting what you see in a big city like this, the children here don't run amok about their nurses and shops, tiny dinky things line each side of a street it was hard not to be tempted, being the man I am, I resisted. Found a drinking den, went in, do not know what is in their ale, but it is not normal, I tell you that right up for I left after the first pint. Walked a bit more after that, nothing to say about that, the square a few blocks away though has some lovely ladies that I would be right to keep in mind. Anna had cooked some gruel when I arrived home, thankfully she did not enquire where I had been for the night or what had become of the last francs in the jar. I will find a church and confess tomorrow.

July 22-

The nearest church is over an hours walk away. Constantly I had to stop and ask directions, I think they sent me on a wild goose chase out of spite of my accent. Yet any church, even one overseen by these people is better then facing the wrath of Satan at the end of my life.

July 26-

An elderly couple came to enquire about the flat today, knocked on the door just as I was raising a spoon of watery soup to my mouth. Anna allowed them in, I would have rejected them on the doorstep, and their appearance was truly shocking, if they were not standing on their own two feet I would have taken them for dead, yet their demeanor was pleasant enough. Politely they declined our offer, claiming they had not known that there would be stairs, my foot they didn't it was written right there in the ad, clear as day. More then likely they were hoping we were desperate enough to give them our room. Anna wanted too, I would not allow it. My father would be turning in his grave at the very thought. We are in need of money, that is true, but not to the extent I would sleep up in that draughty room.

July 28-

She would not speak to me again this morning. Rather she sloshed what she dared call food into my bowl and returned to her pot on the stove. Not entirely sure from where this food keeps appearing, we ran out of francs a few days ago.

July 29-

At last she speaks. Apparently it was all of my fault that she had given me the cold cheek. Women, if they were not so essential in keeping a home, I would wash my hands of them. The silence more then likely stopped because another person came today enquiring after the room, a tall thin man. At first I found his appearance shocking, and was reluctant to allow him in. He wore a long fine travel coat, and even finer clothes, with a mysteriously dark air about him. What was most striking was the mask he wore, as black as night I swear it was, it covered the whole of his face and retained a harrowing blank expression. He said something; I remember the word as clear as day, he said "I am Erik, your new tenant", and like that, I didn't have a word in edgeways, for Erik, if that is his name, was already walking into the house to inspect the room in the attic. Anna looked astonished to say the least, her face had drained of all colours, and she made a start to follow our guest. But he had already returned, stooping to get past the doorway, claiming solemnly it would do. If he had not offered more then we were asking I would have rejected him on the spot.

July 30-

Erik brought his possessions to the house today; I am too tired at this moment to report on the strange events that occurred.


End file.
